It's really no surprise that the first thing I decided to cook on my own was a pizza. I had saved up some of my allowance and told my mom I was officially cooking dinner that night. She smiled at my nobly 12 year old body as I brought in grocery bags hanging from my wet bicycle.
It was a wet September day outside, and I was so excited to finally be home. I was proud of making it all the way from the store without losing a thing on the way. I laid out the extra deep pre-made crust, thick tomato sauce with real beef in it, pepperoni, salami, ham, sausage, chicken, bacon bits and cheddar cheese. I still remember the disgusted look my mom gave me when she saw there weren't any vegetables on it.